La Douleur Exquise
by Shrimp Mayo
Summary: "I know you're a princess. I Skwerkeled it." Reamy Modern Royalty AU
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** La Douleur Exquise

 **Fandom:** Faking It

 **Pairing:** Amy Raundenfeld | Reagan

 **Summary:** "I know you're a princess. I Skwerkeled it." Reamy | Modern Royalty AU

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Faking It. Sadly, Reagan isn't mine. Nor is Shane. Or Amy. Other people can have Karma and Liam. But dammit, I want Lauren and Theo too! Oh, and Amy's country's name is from the Pokemon hack game, Pokemon Glazed. You'll see why I chose it.

 **Warning:** I've only been in this fandom for a couple of days, I have not yet memorized how these ladies walk and talk. Also, there is violence somewhere in the very far future of this fic. Fair warning.

Also, maybe I should add here that I have a tendency to kill characters I love. I'm not yet sure if it'll happen here, but the warning's out there.

 **Note:** I love Reagan with all my heart. She is literally the embodiment of my type. I apologize for anything I do to her here. I had a need for badass Reagan. Now that that long ass author's note is out of the way… Let's do this.

 **xxx**

 **Chapter One**

 **xxx**

Amy peered out the tinted windows to examine the building they'd pulled up on. It had four stories of drab grey bricks and fading red paint. A couple of hooded teens hung around the front steps of the apartment building, laughing with each other and passing around what seemed to be a small roll of marijuana. She looked up at the building again, noticing not for the first time the fire escape that touched all the windows on each floor. That would be useful.

"Your Highness, are you ready?"

She turned to at the passenger seat. Alpha was looking at her with questioning eyes. Or at least, she thought there was a question in his eyes. She couldn't really see behind his dark sunglasses. She doesn't think she'd ever even seen what his eyes looked like. She didn't want to think about the only time she'd seen the eyes of the Alpha before him.

The skin of his face had been corroding from the acid that was meant for Amy.

Seriously. Who on Earth created acid guns like some sort of comic villain?

 _Felix_ did, apparently.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and offered a lopsided smile towards Alpha. "I was born ready," she quipped, despite the fact that her voice held a slight quiver in it.

This Alpha didn't offer her a kind smile of encouragement, not like his predecessor had done. This Alpha was cold and calculating, which was probably why he'd been specifically chosen for this task. All this Alpha did was give her a terse nod and hand her a sleek black iPhone.

"This phone has been specifically altered so that we're your emergency contact. We have also bugged it with a tracker so that we can find you no matter what happens so I ask that you keep this phone on your person at all times. We will also be listening in to all of your conversations and tracking all the messages you sen–"

She held up a hand to stop him from continuing his speech. "Take out that last one. You can bug the apartment's telephone, but not my phone. I draw the line at that."

Alpha looked like he was about to contest her decision, but thought against it. Amy allowed herself a smile, taking that tiny victory. She knew everything they did was for her safety and protection, but there were certain parts of her that she'd like to keep private.

"Very well." Alpha took the phone back and handed it to the similarly dressed man in the driver's seat. Omega, as Amy was told to call him, popped open the phone. In no time at all, the phone was back in Amy's hands.

At least they were reliable and fast.

"So," Amy drawled, "I'll be seeing you guys around."

Alpha and Omega give her a terse nod. She held up a hand when Alpha made a move to go outside and open her door for her. For supposedly secret agents, these guys didn't understand subtlety at all. The black Mercedes parked outside an apartment building was suspicious enough. The people didn't need to see Alpha in all his black suit, dark glasses glory.

She took a deep breath to center herself, something that Karma's mother had taught her when they were kids, and headed out.

 **xxx**

The apartment was on the third floor and was fairly small. There was an open space with a small TV and a couch, plus a table and two chairs a couple of feet away. Near the table and chairs was the kitchen, which was just a sink, some grimy counters, and a refrigerator. Then there were two doors, one that lead to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom.

The place was definitely a far cry from her old home.

Her bedroom at home was at least twice the size of the entire apartment. It wasn't a bad change. In fact, this felt less stifling than the place she grew up in. There weren't eyes constantly watching her every move, expecting her to be the carbon copy of her mother, the Queen. There weren't people who whispered behind her back just because she didn't use the proper fork despite it being drilled into her head most of her life.

Who needed that many forks when eating anyway?

In this small apartment, she actually felt _free_.

She dropped down into the surprisingly comfortable couch and took out her phone. She made the call in a couple of quick taps, her phone against her ear as she waited to hear her best friend's voice.

"Amy!"

There it was. A smile immediately found its way to Amy's lips. "Hey, Karma. I just arrived."

"That's great! What's your room number again? I'll be there in five."

"304."

There wasn't a reply, just the click of the door shutting behind Karma before the call ended. Amy laughed lightly to herself and leant back on the couch. Her friendship with Karma had been one that stood against time. Ten years. They had been friends for ten years. Karma's parents were locals to Amy's country, but when Karma turned fifteen, they moved to America. Amy's family had done all they can to help their move become easier, mostly because Amy had pestered her mother endlessly. They'd maintained contact through the year that they were separated and now Amy was in Austin with Karma a couple of blocks away.

A sound echoed throughout the apartment and Amy's eyes immediately turned to the door. Sure it had been five minutes already, but Karma couldn't have been there already, right?

Another sound, and this time Amy knew it didn't come from the door. She turned to the window near the kitchen, the one that lead out to the fire escape, and fear immediately clutched at her chest. Did they find her already? How was that even possible? Her hand clutched her phone, finger hovering over the emergency button.

Black and purple hair popped inside from the window and hazy brown eyes looked around. "Shit. Wrong window," muttered the stranger in an oddly raspy voice.

Amy watched cautiously, her phone still in hand.

The stranger made a move to move back out, but misjudged the distance between the ledge and her hand, causing her to tumble inside. There wasn't even a bit of hesitation in Amy – which striked her as odd, but she pushed the thought away – as she moved to the girl's side and helped her up, noticing the way she smelled vaguely of alcohol, something spicy and something Amy couldn't quite put her finger on. The girl stood up but swayed a moment later, laughing at herself.

If Amy had any doubts before, now she was really sure that the girl was drunk. It wasn't even noon yet.

Finally, the girl seemed to have collected herself enough to get a good look at Amy and a small smirk found its way to her lips. "Thanks for the help…" She paused, hand on the window, and looked down at Amy's shirt, "Shrimp girl." With that, she made her way out and a clank of metal indicated that she was back on the fire escape.

Amy followed the girl to the window and peeked out, just in time to see her duck inside a window on the floor below her.

Amy didn't have enough time to think about the absurdity of the girl's appearance in her apartment before a knock resounded on the door. She moved to open it, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of Karma who immediately greeted her with a huge hug and light laughter.

"Nice shrimp shirt, Amy."

 _What?_ Her donut shirt was still in the bags.

 **xxx**

 **Note:** I've decided to keep the chapters short and sweet. I'm lazy like that. But hey! We've already met Amy, Karma, and Reagan, plus Alpha and Omega. Maybe we'll see Shane in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** To the **Guest** who asked about Alpha and Omega, these are their codenames. As mentioned in the first chapter, the Alpha before the new one got blasted with acid on the face. Amy isn't allowed to know their names so she just calls them by their codenames. And yes, they are Amy's bodyguards.

And special thanks to **emotionalminesweeper** who is hella rad and awesome.

 **xxx**

"It's been a year, Reagan. You need to let it go."

Reagan chugged another tall drink of something that glowed a bright neon green. She wasn't even sure if it was safe for consumption if the burning in her throat was any indication, but it dulled her brain and made her entire body feel numb even for just a moment. She'd drink it even if it were poisoned, especially if it would help her drown out Shane's words.

She liked him better when he flirted with all the guys at the bar and left her alone.

"Not a year," she found herself muttering, making Shane arch a brow at her. She shook her head and a laugh bubbled up inside her, despite absolutely nothing humorous happening. Or maybe it was because the entire party was a sham. It was hilarious how they thought they'd get any decent form of music when Reagan wasn't the one spinning. Really, the current DJ was a joke.

"Not a year," she repeated, finishing the rest of her drink and momentarily finding herself engrossed with the glowstick liquid tucked on the bottom of the glass, sealed off from the rest of the drink. "A year, one month, three weeks, and five days."

Gods, even when she was intoxicated, she couldn't deny that she's pathetic.

When she ran out of the dance floor and into the nearest bathroom stall to puke her guts out, she told herself that it was just because she'd drank too much.

It definitely wasn't because of the pitiful look Shane threw her way. Definitely not that.

 **xxx**

 _Shrimp Girl._

Reagan's eyes snapped open and she immediately regretted it. For some reason, the sun had been transported inside her apartment and was dead set on burning her eyeballs. That was the only explanation.

Okay maybe not the _only_ explanation.

There was still the possibility that Russian assassins were using some new form of torture device that would turn her blind. And drill something nasty in her head. Her head was killing her.

What had she done last night?

And that was when the memories started flashing back, like a montage in a film, complete with its own background music. Only, this one wasn't some sappy romantic love song or even an energetic pump-it-up drum filled song. No. For her it was _Frédéric Chopin_ blasting Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 35.

Of course Reagan knew her music.

 _Shrimp girl._

Sure, Reagan had a tendency to give people nicknames, but even she knew that particular one was bad. And even after she'd barged inside the girl's apartment like some drunk idiot.

Oh wait. She _had_ been a drunk idiot.

It only goes to show that nothing good ever happened when she thought about Sadie.

A knock resounded on the door.

 _See?_

She was thankful that at least her eyes had adjusted to the light already and she was able to stand with just a mild headache coming on. Seriously, what had she been drinking?

"Well, don't you look like shit."

She would roll her eyes if that wouldn't have caused an impromptu vomiting session on her carpet. She liked her carpet, thank you very much. It had cost a small fortune but it was worth it. So, instead, she only stared at the Shane, who had apparently decided that he wouldn't be waiting outside and let himself in.

He didn't have a key, so how on Earth did he get inside?

He seemed to have sensed the question forming on her still hazy brain. "Your door was unlocked."

She almost slapped herself, but thought better of it. Of course her door was unlocked. Of course that particular titbit of information slipped her mind the day prior. Of course she had chosen to climb up the fire escape and attempt to shimmy inside her apartment through the window.

Of course her drunk self would mess things up and go inside another person's window instead.

Shane watched her mentally beat herself up with an amused smirk. "Anyway, Count Drunkaton, do you have any idea what you were drinking?" When Reagan lightly shook her head no, Shane's smile widened. "Dutchman."

"Fuck," Reagan groaned as she plopped down on her couch with a resounding thud. "That shit is vile. Why didn't you tell me?"

In lieu of an answer, Shane walked over to her fridge and began to rifle through its contents. He made a noise of triumph and took out a bottle of orange juice. "You needed something hard enough to knock that bitch out of your system," he finally answered, handing a newly poured glass of OJ to Reagan. "Apparently, all it did was knock you out for two days."

"Two days?" Reagan sputtered, orange juice flying in the air.

Shane grimaced in disgust, but nodded. "I'm kind of surprised no one's robbed you yet."

Reagan wiped her mouth and made a flourish with her hand, careful not to spill the remaining juice in the glass. "It may not seem like it, but this is actually the safest neighbourhood in Texas."

Shane rolled his eyes but didn't contest it. The people who lived in Reagan neighbourhood knew each other from the day they popped out of their mothers' wombs. If anyone were to disrupt their peace, they'd get kicked out or ostracised with no hint of hesitation.

Speaking of…

"Apparently there's a new girl in your building," Shane trailed off, eyebrows wagging suggestively. He'd been attempting to set Reagan up with girls left and right the past year in an attempt to get positive lesbian juju back into his life. Unfortunately, none of his prior attempts had worked, but news of the new girl gave him hope. If what the stoners told him was right, the new girl was a total hottie.

But Reagan was already shutting down the idea before it even began. "No." Her tone brooked no argument before a cloud fell over her eyes and she frowned. "And there's a new girl? Please don't tell me she's blonde and wears a shrimp shirt."

At that, Shane arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "I don't know about a shrimp shirt but yes, blonde hair was mentioned." When Reagan groaned again, he just chuckled lightly. "Do I want to know?"

"Of course you do," Reagan fired back, "but I'm not telling."

There was something devilish about Shane's smile, and had Reagan not been subjected to that sight a million times before, it would have sparked a chill in her spine. Unfortunately, all she could do was sigh in defeat and curl up on her couch. "I'll find out soon enough," was what Shane had said before he took his leave.

That left Reagan to rest her still throbbing head on her knees.

The fact that she'd missed a catering gig floated in her mind. She won't be expecting any offers from that job soon.

Sighing, she stood up and headed to the shower. The Dutchman had done shit with helping her rid her mind of Sadie, but she can't even remember thinking about her at all when she made a fool out of herself in front of Shrimp girl. She smirked to herself. She wasn't taking that as a sign, but she was definitely going to be paying her new neighbour a visit soon.

Just to smooth things over.

 **xxx**

 **Afternote:** I've always loved the idea of Reagan and Shane being friends. And don't worry, Sadie won't be much trouble here. And hey, Reagan and Amy will properly meet each other in the next chapter, so there's that. Plus, more light on Amy's situation. Next chapter should be up this time tomorrow.

Also, I never knew titbit was a word until LibreOffice (set to English UK) decided that tidbit wasn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** In response to **emotionalminesweeper** 's review on Chapter One… Who said she was living alone? As always, thank you for your reviews. You make me smile. :

 **xxx**

When Amy was ten, her mother sat her down on the throne and smiled brightly at her. "You're going to be queen one day," she had drawled out in her heavy accent, something that had always irked Amy. It wasn't that she hated how her mother talked. It was more on the fact that it was an accent deeply ingrained in the citizens of Tunod, but something that their future queen had never been able to pick up.

How was she meant to rule over them when she never felt like one of them?

She ten year old Amy had frowned and tugged at the itchy cape Farrah had thrown on her. "I don't want to be queen," she had said. And while ten year old Amy may have been oblivious to a number of things – mostly things that involved the History of Tunod and how to act like a proper princess – she saw the way her mother's face fell at her words.

She saw the disappointment tinged with an unsaid 'I expected as much'.

When fifteen year old Amy watched her mother walk down the aisle on her wedding day with a man she had met from a trip to America, Amy saw that bright smile again. But it wasn't directed at Amy. It wasn't even directed at the man by her side. No, it was directed at the girl around Amy's age with the haughty air around her.

Lauren Cooper.

Second in line to the throne via marriage, but the new first choice in her mother's eyes.

She hated her already.

 **xxx**

"No way."

Lauren scoffed and pushed her way inside, her nose scrunching at the sight of the place. Amy had only been in the apartment for two days, but the smell of doughnuts and pizza already filled the air. Typical.

Alpha stood behind Lauren and shut the door, keeping the prying eyes of the neighbours away. Of course, the hallway had been abandoned, which was why he'd chosen that exact time to transport Princess Lauren.

"It was the Queen's orders," he answered, placing Lauren's heavy bags inside. "Her words were that it would be a wonderful opportunity for her daughters to bond."

"There's only one room," Lauren butt in before Amy was able to voice out her hatred of the idea for the umpteenth time. "I'm not sharing that with her."

"News flash, I don't want to share it with you either." Amy crossed her arms over her chest. "I was here first." She stuck out a tongue at Lauren before turning back to Alpha. "Can't you just get her another apartment? I'm sure she'd–"

"This place is a dump. I'm not going to live in a dump."

"Will you stop being a stuck-up brat?"

"Oh? And what are you supposed to be? You look like a hobo."

"Nice attitude. Where did you get it? Abercrombie and Bitch?"

Lauren's eyes widened before she smirked and looked about ready to cut Amy where she stood. Thankfully, Alpha took that as his cue to intervene. With a roll of her eyes, Amy walked away and headed for the fire escape, huffing as she leaned forward on the railings. The alley underneath was empty except for a stray dog, and somehow, it brings a wave of peace towards Amy.

"Trouble in paradise, Shrimp girl?"

Amy started and she turned to glare at the owner of the voice, but found that her words were caught in her throat as soon as she saw who it was. Chestnut brown eyes watched her flounder for words in amusement.

Reagan was sitting on her window sill a floor below Amy, a lit stick of cigarette in between her fingers. A lazy smile painted her lips, and Amy found herself relaxing even more.

"I also sometimes go by Amy." There. That was a good introduction, right? Although, nothing could really beat their first meeting in terms of awkwardness and inappropriateness, so it wasn't that hard to do better.

Reagan stood and flicked the unfinished cigarette away. She climbed up the stairs halfway, extending her hand above her. "Reagan."

Amy knelt on one knee and met Reagan halfway, taking the girl's hand in hers. An image of Romeo and Juliet flickered briefly in her mind's eye but she waved it away, almost chuckling at the absurdity of it. She found herself offering a sincere smile, the first she'd given in months to someone other than Karma (and that thought caused a shiver of _something_ to run down her spine).

Reagan gave her hand one final squeeze before coming back down and leaning on her own railing, looking up at Amy with a playful grin. "So… Trouble? I heard some major bitching up there?"

"You heard?" Amy was careful to keep her voice even, despite the fact that her mind was screaming at her to ask just to what extent Reagan heard.

The brunette shrugged. "Not really. I couldn't make out the words, but I heard your voice."

Amy snorted in response. "What? You're a stalker now?"

"You weren't exactly quiet, Shrimp girl." There was an undercurrent to Reagan's tone, and the way her eyes bore into Amy's when she said those words caused a shiver to run down the blonde's spine. She had to avert her gaze away and returned to staring at the lone dog below them, who had no taken to digging through the dumpster.

Following her line of sight, Reagan frowned. She whistled sharply, causing Amy to grimace. It also caused the dog to pause and look up. "Sammy," Reagan called out, eyes on the scrawny pup. Another whistle and she pointed in the direction of the streets, partnering it with a glare. The dog was quick to follow the orders and ran out.

"Is he yours?" Amy couldn't help but ask.

Reagan shook her head, purple hair flying around. "He's a friends'." She left it at that, biting back the bile that tempted to rise up her throat. Just because they broke up didn't mean Sadie had to throw away everything that reminded her about Reagan. Even the pup they had adopted. As much as Reagan wanted to take care of him, she knew that she couldn't, so she'd given him to the old man down the street that was in dire need to companionship. Mr. Harley wasn't in any way rich, and he hadn't been able to take care of Sammy properly.

She made a mental note to go and offer her help next time.

A comfortable silence fell around them that was only broken by a girl's voice from inside Amy's apartment. The blonde made a face of disgust, and Reagan had to chuckle at that. "What's wrong?"

"My step-sister."

Reagan gave her a light chuckle and tilted her head. "Want to go on an adventure?"

A small smile tugged up at Amy's lips. "An adventure?"

"Yeah." There was a resolute nod, and an extended hand, but all Amy really saw was the playfulness in brown eyes. It felt oddly refreshing – the fact that Reagan didn't know who she was and that Reagan didn't expect anything from her.

Climbing down the steps to take Reagan's hand in hers? Well… Amy was just going to ignore how it felt like she was about to run away with prince charming.

 **xxx**

 **Afternote:** I'm trying out this thing where I switch POVs between them every chapter. Sammy's gonna play a part in Reagan and Amy getting together. Theo will be here too.


End file.
